


A foggy night in London

by ravenpuff1956



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Jacob love drunk, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Newt in love, Tina has a lot of feelings, adorable idiots, poor Queenie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-10 03:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17418566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: Tina has been informed by a contact, that instead of being in Paris, Credence and the circus are instead in England.She's unable to find the obscurial boy in the freezing cold city- however she does see two people who make her blood run cold. Queenie and Jacob. But why are they in England and why are they breaking into a strangers house?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Newt's excited 'Tina?' when he thinks she's also in his home kills me every time. So I thought of an idea in which she is there, so every 'misunderstanding' is able to unfold so much faster.   
> Hope everyone enjoys!

Tina sighs blowing a tiny cloud of steam into the freezing night air. She rubs her arms aggressively, searching for any kind of heat. London, she decides, his colder than New York, colder than Paris. 

Paris. She should be in the city of lights right now. Walking through its cobbled streets, strolling through a buzzing fair on the lookout for a Credence. But no. A contact of Tina’s had informed her that the circus had gotten into deep trouble because of the cruel way they treated their magical creatures. She’d preened happily at the protection of the beasts and for Newt (Mr Scamander Tina, Mr Scamander). As surely these new clamp downs were down to him and his brilliant book. But the circus, instead of facing their charges, had scarped, leaving Tina to frantically piece together the trail they had left behind. And this trail had led her to England. 

Tina had searched all night in the famous Diagon Alley, but it was now too dark and she was too alone to step a toe in the infamous Kockturn Alley. So shivering and tired she was walking home. She’d rented a room in a no-maj boarding house instead of the magical leaky cauldron (less chance that her government would find her- she didn’t exactly ask to go to Europe). Lost in her thoughts she sinks her foot into a hidden puddle and cringing as cold water rushes into her socks.

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina mumbles, kicking a lamp post in frustration. A metallic sound rings out into the night. 

“What was that? It sounded funny,” a man’s voice giggles out from the darkness. 

“Shh honey, not so loud, we’re almost there,” another voice slushes him, but her soft voice still carries through the mist.

The two voices are horrifying familiar. 

Stunned with shock she watches as the dull lamp light across the street, reveals her sister who is encouraging along a stumbling Jacob, a suitcase clamped tightly in her hand. Tina quickly turns off her mind, a skill she's always had but never had a reason to use until very recently. She sucks in her cheeks disapprovingly, watching Jacob nuzzle Queenie’s bosom helplessly, his gaze adoring, almost dog like. ‘Surely not,’ Tina groans, ‘surely she hasn’t enchanted her beau across the Atlantic?‘ 

It’s not like Queenie hasn’t done it before. But this time, Tina thinks darkly wrapping herself in a disillusion charm, Queenie might’ve taken it a bit too far, even for her devoted Jacob. She anxiously watches her sisters head, searching for the certain signals of her mind reading ability. A dazed look perhaps, or a suspicious glance back at where she’s disguised herself. But Queenie seems far too concerned with Jacob’s agitated movements and loud exclamations to be bothered to hear for her elder sister thoughts. Tina is depressingly glad. She couldn’t stand to see Queenie’s cold anger directed towards her again.

She gazes at the couple till they disappear into the fog. Two of the few people of in the world who care for her disappear into the night. How ironic that most of them, right now, are all on this tiny island. But the three of them have a beloved, while she is alone and shivering in the rain. Mercy Lewis, she’s so alone. Tina, almost trance like, begins to follow them. Not wanting to catch up exactly; but just catch a glimpse of them, so just for a minute she feels as though she’s back in her sister’s life again. (And maybe if she gets close enough she can secretly take the enchantment off Jacob). 

The loud splatters of rain on the pavement and rooftops make it easy for her footsteps to be disguised. Tina follows them through the deserted streets. Every now and again Queenie pulls out a piece of paper, checks it, then moves on. ‘What could she be looking for?’ Tina thinks curiously. ‘A church perhaps? They could get married legally here after all’. That would be nice, she smiles wistfully. To actually get to see her sister’s wedding; she hadn’t even gotten a note from Queenie since she left, even though she'd wrote and wrote. She wasn’t exactly expecting to get a wedding invitation. 

They’ve slowly walked (well Tina walked, Jacob had caught Queenie in a kind of convoluted waltz), into a neighbourhood full of crowded houses. Smoke puffs out from each neat chimney, and Queenie is using the soft glow coming out of each window to carefully check every letterbox number. Finally, she claps her hands together in delight, a pushes a love drunk Jacob up a random house’s steps, and through its front door all without knocking. 

Tina mentally slaps herself. Queenie has now resorted to breaking and entering into stranger’s houses. She really is a terrible older sister. Frustrated, she whips off her concealment spells also hurrying up the houses steps prepared to give her a piece of her mind. (Although she makes sure to keep up her defences- she doesn’t want Queenie to make a scene in front of a horrified no-maj family). 

The doors hinge’s creak with an offending sound, and Tina freezes in fright. But thankfully, the sound of china breaking in the next room drowns out the squeak. She blows out a grateful breath and she manages to shut the door silently, listening to the couple arguing back and forth about something in the next room. Turning around Tina finds herself in a bare corridor; with dull cream walls and a simple grey staircase. It’s only decoration is three old hooks, one of which one royal blue coat hangs. The piece of paper Queenie was holding has fallen to the floor. It’s an envelope, slightly ripped, and messily folded. Tina bends down to pick it up, but the familiar writing causes her a moan in horror.

Who’s the only person Queenie and Jacob are friends with in England? Tina gives Newt’s envelope- an old one addressed to her, his own address written in minute writing on the back- a wide berth. She leans her head against the cold wall, trying to calm her fluttering pulse to no avail. Nervous tears drip out of her eyes. Damn, damn, damn. 

“Newt!” she hears Jacob serenade, and she bites down on her tongue, hard. 

The pain is nothing compared with her mental turmoil. She’s in Newt’s house. The man she’s been thinking about for a year, who is engaged, soon to be married. Leta Lestrange might even be here, or perhaps she’s on her way to see her doting fiancé, soon to be knocking on the door. Wouldn’t that be sweet? The two couples could properly get to know each other then, discuss their wedding plans together and Tina… Tina could drink too much wine and slip away to seek comfort with his creatures. 

Her bones seem frozen with sadness. She couldn’t have apparated even if she wanted to. Instead Tina mindlessly bumps her head against the wall, satisfying the headache appearing behind her eyes. ‘I will be polite, and friendly, but not too friendly and…and happy for him’. It’s been her mantra for months, but Mercy Lewis it’s so much harder when he’s just in the next room. She can almost feel his presence, like it’s a part of her. She can hear a wild hum under her feet, of growls, of chirps, of magic. It fills her with contentment in a way it shouldn’t be able to do, not after so many months of being away from his case. ‘It’s not right Tina, he’s engaged to his childhood sweetheart,’ she tells herself sternly. And yet the feeling lingers.

“This is wonderful,” she hears Newt cry and Tina can’t help but let out a whimper. She never thought she’d hear that voice again. It’s just as beautiful as she remembers. 

“Is…Tina?” he calls. She looks up startled. He wants to see her? Why?

“Tina?” he calls again excitedly. She’d forgotten the timbre of his voice, the way his British vowels lengthen her name. Make it sound like it’s something special. Something important. Something wanted. 

“Tina,” he breathes wondrously. 

She can feel his body right behind her. He smells damp, like he’s just been swimming. It smells more amazing than river-weed should do; she expects things always do when they’re coming from him. Dammit! She can’t do this. Tina begins to shake a little, shoulders vibrating nervously. A strong hand balances itself on her shoulder bland; it’s intention clear but obviously still nervous. Newt’s fingers are trembling, and his thumb keeps gets caught under her collar. 

“Newt,” she shudders for a different reason, and he grips her shoulder tighter. 

“Oh, it’s just us Honey, me and…ah,” Queenie’s voice loosens its sheen, and goes as sharp as a knife, “Teenie,” 

Tina unsticks her forehead from the wall, quickly brushing down bangs, before slowly turning around. She’d forgotten how close to the same height they are; how easy it is to look into his eyes. She must have been correct about the swimming. His shirt and pants are wrinkled and are sticking in places to his chest and thighs. She’s never seen Newt look so undone before, not in a coat or even a waistcoat. It makes Tina hope her wet hair looks like his does, wild, dishevelled, and then berates herself for thinking in such a way. He’s not hers, he never will be. 

Newt’s grinning at her, a wide, cheeking aching grin, that makes her bite her lip. She gathers her courage. It rests in her chest but not her heart.

“Nice to see you again, Mr Scamander,” she says simply, trying not to hear how her voice cracks both on ‘you’ and ‘Scamander,’. Trying not to notice how Newt’s smile droops a little on the sides. But her informal greeting only averts him for a second. 

“Oh Tina, you have no idea-“ he begins. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” Queenie rounds the corner as well, arms on her hips, “I thought you were in Paris,” 

“Paris?” Newt asks her curiously. He hadn’t even turned around at Queenie’s accusation. He seems to only have eyes for her.

“Yes I was, but then I,” she blinks at Newt. He would understand about Credence. Could he even help? She can feel her sister drag the information for her mind, and Queenie nods understandably but stonily, “but then I didn’t have to anymore,” 

“So you three came along, to see me?” Newt asks hopefully. His lips stutter at Tina and she melts. They’re the perfect shape, pink and lovely. Men’s lips shouldn’t be allowed to be so beautiful. She can’t help but smile at his happiness, and he gets a dazed expression on his face, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly unhinged. 

“We did,” Queenie leans his hip against the door frame, narrowing her eyes at her Tina, “she didn’t” 

“You didn’t?” Newt asks saddened, his eyes drop from her eyes to her cheek. Tina uncomfortably crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, not really,” she stumbles, swallowing hard as Newt takes a step backwards, “I came because, I came because,” Queenie raises her eyebrows, “because you’ve put Jacob under some kind of spell again,” she throws up her hands, pointing a stern finger towards the next room. 

Newt moves out of the way as Queenie turns on Tina, his features concerned, fingers uncomfortably playing with his braces. 

“No I haven’t!” Queenie cries defensively, as Tina draws her wand. 

“Queenie I love you, Queenie I do, when we’re apart my heart beats only for you,” Jacob belts out loudly also storming into the room, and swinging backwards are forwards on the doorknob. On each arch, as he soars towards Queenie, he somehow manages to clumsily kiss her on the cheek. It would’ve been sweet if her sister didn’t wince each time he did so. 

“Enchanted,” Newt frowns at Queenie and Tina can see the disapproval in his eyes. Thank Merlin, he believes her. 

“We’re just so incredibly happy,” Queenie insists stubbornly, catching a stumbling Jacob as he misses her cheek and instead crashes into her nose. 

“Ah yes, ‘just happy’,” Tina rolls her eyes, her voice laced with sarcasm. 

“Tina!” Jacob yells excitedly, “Look we’re all here! One big happy family again,” he grins stupidly around at them all. The three magicians aren’t smiling. Queenie looks as if she’s swallowed a lemon. Newt’s pink in the face, studying his feet, clearly embarrassed. Tina raises her wand in Jacob’s face ready to dispel the curse. The no-maj begins to giggle uncontrollably. 

“Why Tina, you shouldn’t be pointing that at me! You should be pointing it at Newt here!” he gives both of them a saucy wink, taking up another song, “Newt and Tina sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!” 

Tina feels hot dread wash over her, watching out of the corner of her eye as Newt’s hand jumps to his hair, his blush moving upwards to his ears. She doesn’t see, when she resolutely turns away, how Newt’s gaze lingers on her, how his eyes darken a little. 

“Now darling,” Queenie says gently to Jacob, “you know that’s not true anymore, Newt is engaged and Tina has a boyfriend,” 

Tina’s arm begins to shake, and her wand falls out of her hand and clatters on the floor. Gulping she ducks to pick it up, and hears a harsh whoosh of air blow over her ears. Looking up she sees a pale Newt, pointing his wand held in a jaw like grip at a spluttering Jacob. The no-maj is coughing like he’s just been saved from a drowning. Queenie has sat herself on the bottom step of Newt’s stairs, her head in her lap. Tina anxiously moves forward, ready to comfort her sister, but Queenie holds out a stern hand and Tina stops in her tracks, drawing her coats drawstrings tight, pain cutting into her hips. 

“Where am I?” Jacob asks gruffly. 

“London,” Newt says softly.

“Queenie,” Jacob sounds truly angry. Rightfully so, Tina muses, but she can’t help but feel defensive at the dangerous tone directed towards her sister, “What’d you do?”

There’s a silence. Then Queenie begins to laugh. Hysterically. Taking great shuddering breaths between each loud peal of squeal. Both Jacob and Tina rush towards her. She pulls in the no-maj closer to her, but pushes her sister away roughly. Tina stumbles backwards and gentle hands catch her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers numbly, and Newt’s hands tighten around her upper arms. 

“You’re welcome,” his warm breath moves her hair. She wonders vaguely whether or not he likes it. The short bob. The fringe. 

“Well aren’t you two fucking adorable,” Queenie giggles, rolling down her cheeks. She has one hand on Jacob’s knee. Tina can see her nails digging lightly into his thigh. 

She instinctively takes a step backwards into Newt’s arms and he takes a step closer. His front presses into her back and electricity soars up her spine. 

“Queenie,” Jacob sighs; half in sympathy, half in warning. Tina has a sinking suspicion they’ve talked about this, them, before. 

“No, no they are,” her laughter is now being broken up by great shuddering sobs. Jacob wraps his arm around her, “Newt thinks she’s the most beautiful witch he’s ever seen, and Tina thinks he’s the most amazing wizard. They’re both falling…” she can’t finish the sentence, hanging her head. But all four of them know what she was going to say. 

Tina feels Newt press close to her, his nose bumping into the back of her neck. She tries, unsuccessfully, to stifle her sharp intake of breath. 

“Really?” he rumbles and she nods helplessly. She can’t lie to him, never would. Newt’s the most remarkable wizard Tina’s ever known. She can feel his teeth brush against her collar as he smiles. Tina can feel a grin coming on herself; ‘Newt Scamander thinks I’m beautiful, he thinks I’m beautiful’. But stifles her happiness for her sister who’s still crying on the steps. And for her conscience which rotates round and round- ‘Leta’ and ‘Engaged’. Queenie isn’t finished. 

“These two can just get married, be together forever and no one would blink and eye, while we…it’s just not fair!” Queenie wails, throwing up her arms in despair. 

Tina reluctantly pulls herself away from Newt’s embrace. She tentatively walks towards her sister, her heart breaking.

“Queenie, I would love nothing more for you to be able to be together, it’s just...” she trails off, wincing.

“Against the law,” Queenie spits bitterly, turning her head away from Tina, who bites her lip; hurt.

“Baby you know she’s right,” Jacob strokes her hair gently, “I don’t want to see you in jail sweetheart,” Queenie pushes his hand away.

“Not you too! Why is everyone against me on this!” she cries at the three of them, beating her fists hard on the steps. Her eyes meet them each in turn, frantic and accusatory. Tina tries to soften her features, to make them less disapproving, more understanding. Queenie narrows her eyebrows; she clearly failed. 

“Sweetheart,” Jacob tries again.

“No, no, no!” Queenie stands abruptly, wringing her hands, “I’ve got to get out of here, away from all of you,” she moves to push past Tina. 

“Queenie,” she whispers, distressed, reaching out a weak hand towards her. 

“No don’t you dare,” her sister snaps, refusing to meet her eyes and stalking out of Newt’s home, slamming the door behind her. 

Blinking away tears, Tina moves to follow her. 

“Best not, Tina,” Jacob sighs tiredly, patting her arm gently, “I’ll go after her,” 

“Nice to see you again Newt,” he shakes his friends limp hand, “I’m sure we’ll be back soon,” And he too leave’s, already calling Queenie’s name before the door closes. 

Tina and Newt are left alone in the dull corridor. Newt’s staring motionlessly at his front door; probably wondering when the three whirlwinds of chaos that just entered his house was going to disappear. She was the only on left. Tina sighs under her breath, wiping her nose discreetly on her sleeve. 

“I’m sorry for-“ she begins to his red curls.

“Do you…are you really seeing someone else?” he asks quietly, to the floor, his feet shuffling awkwardly.

“Achilles’ and I,” Tina says contemplatively and Newt’s shoulders slump, “we went out for a few dinners,” 

“Right,” Newt’s chin falls even further into his chest, and Tina’s heart jumps to her throat. She squashes it down.

“Congratulations on your book, and, and everything,” she tries to sound happy and bright, just like she’s heard Queenie do, to lighten up the mood. Hearing her false tone, Tina shudders and takes a deep breath.

“I read it in one-night Newt it…it was wonderful,” she says sincerely, “I’m so happy you’ve been able to change people’s minds, just like you did with mine. About creatures, they’re incredible,” 

He finally turns round, and she smiles softly at him. To her surprise, she finds his eyes are wet. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he says simply, “I just wish I’d had the chance to deliver your copy in person like I said I would, then maybe…” Newt seems truly dejected about it and she rushes to reassure him.

“No, it’s fine, you and Leta must be so busy,” Newt looks up sharply and she tilts her head confusedly, “with the wedding and all,”

“What wedding?” he asks puzzled, taking a step towards her. 

“Your wedding,” she says blankly. Newt blinks at her stupidly. He’s got a slight stubble, hairs so fine she has to squint to see them. Mercy Lewis he’s handsome. 

“I’m not getting married to Leta,” Newt says breathlessly, and she sees something click over in his eyes, a missing puzzle piece finally fitting together,” My brother is,”

“What?” Tina asks croakily, her throat seems to be stuck together and air is having trouble passing through. He takes another step towards her. They’re almost nose to nose now; she could count his freckles if she wasn’t so shocked.

“Theseus- my brother- he’s marrying Leta, June the sixth, they’re both very excited about it, very much in love” Newt’s speaking rapidly, words tripping over one another, his eyes brightening, “Tina where on earth did you get the idea that I was?”

“It was in all the papers,” Tina says numbly, her tongue thick, “she was holding your arm, wearing a ring, and, and you carry her picture so I thought,” she shrugs helplessly, playing with her coat sleeve.

Newt’s fingers graze the back of her hand and she jumps. 

“I don’t, carry her photo, not anymore,” he whispers, eyes staring down at her lovingly. Tina gapes at him, mouth hanging open, nerves fluttering against her throat. 

“But of course, if you’re seeing someone,” he says forming his awkward shell again. He drops his eyes, and his hand. 

Desperately Tina reaches out for him again, but being flustered (and herself), misses his hand completely and instead ends grasping the clasp of Newt’s suspenders. Now he’s the one to jump. Tina can feel his sharp intake of breath on her fingertips, the hard plain of his stomach inclining backwards. She keeps her hand where it is, too frightened to make another mistake. Newt seems to be concentrating very hard about breathing through his nose. 

“I’m not,” Tina says quietly, and he looks up in delight. 

“You’re not?’ he asks fervently, his fingers nervously caressing her own again lightly. 

His hands are covered in callouses. Tina shudders involuntarily as his rough fingertips twist between her own. Shaking her head, embarrassed by her reaction, she decides Newt’s neck is as good of a spot as any. He swallows, his Addams apple bobbing, working its way down his throat. It’s a whole show, one that makes Tina tingle. She wonders what it would be like to settle into his shoulder after a long day at the office- to breath in his scent, a glass of wine in hand- as he tells her about his creatures, about his day. She imagines what it would be like to bite the tiny bump, to feel his warm skin under her mouth, the slight vibrations of his voice on her teeth. 

Newt seems to be waiting for her reply, so Tina unsticks her throat, forcing herself to look him in the eye. They’re large and soft, beautiful green orbs, like trees in the forest. They take root in her. Newt’s fingers tighten on her own, the nail of his thumb digging into the side of her hand. 

“I was trying to get over you, trying to move on because I thought you were lost to me,” she explains wetly, and if possible his eyes get even deeper, his nail digging in even harder. Tina wonders if, after he lets go, she will have several half-moon marks embedded on her skin.

“Trying?” he asks faintly and slightly desperately. 

Tina smiles at him softly, nodding her head.

“I only went on a couple of dates with Achilles’, but I broke it off, not long before I left,” she tells him just as quietly, gathering her confidence together for what she has to say next, “because he couldn’t compare to you, Newt, no one could,”

Newt and his tongue are trembling. He stands before her, stuttering, and concerned Tina rests her hand on his elbow. He doesn’t flinch this time, and a small buzz in her stomach appears at the thought that he’s gotten used to and likes her touch. 

“I tried to get back to you, five times Tina,” he says disjointedly, “but I’m not allowed out of the country, they’ve denied by travel permit,” Tina’s smile has grown even wider, pinching at her cheeks. 

“You wanted to come back to me?” she asks bewildered, “but I thought you thought all aurors were careerist hypocrites?” 

Newt barks out a humourless laugh. 

“Because they weren’t letting me get back to you,” he growls and shrugs his shoulders helplessly. 

Tina can see the lines of frustration that have grown between his eyebrows, at the corner of his mouth. She feels a flicker of hope light in her belly. But she has to make sure before she fuels the flame. 

“So, you like me then?” she asks slowly, tying her best- and failing- not to sound at like a schoolgirl. Newt doesn’t seem to mind however, jumping closer to her, his forehead an inch from her own. 

“Tina, I like you, I like you so very much I think my heart will burst,” she glows, the fire in her stomach burning its way down her fingertips and flickering up her chest. Tina presses her forehead into his, humming softly as his skin melts into her own.

“You’re my,” Newt’s voice sounds thick, murky at the edges, “you’re my salamander,” 

Most ordinary witches would’ve turned up their noses at such a compliment. For to be compared to a scaly beast would be taken as an insult, which would earn the wizard a slap or at least a cool look. Tina Goldstein however, was not an ordinary witch. She could see no greater honour than being compared to a lizard born of fire, especially since Newt cherishes every creature he comes across. In fact, after reading Newt’s book she’d 'accidentally' let a floo fire run too long. She’d crouched behind a couch, watching in awe as a pure white lizard had crawled out of the ashes. It had ended up going to sleep, curled up in her lap, Tina watching in wonder as its sharp blue tongue every now and again flicked out to kiss her knees. 

Newt is playing with her fingers, nervously.

“Maybe you could feed me some pepper?” Tina asks him timidly. Newt’s mouth falls open.

“What?” he asks hoarsely, eyes heavy and shiny. 

“I’m your salamander, if you feed me some pepper then I’ll stay, here with you,” she says quietly. Newt’s still gaping at her, his teeth a wings breath away from his lips. Tina bites the inside of her cheek, her forehead tipping forward anxiously moving down his nose. 

“I mean if you want me too, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be… It’s just I know now that that’s how you get them to stay, I tried it,” she begins to blather to her shoes. 

A soft thumb tucks itself under her chin, and Tina forces herself to look up at him. Each of Newt’s cheeks contain a soft pink blush. She watches entranced as his tongue slips out to caress his bottom lip. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright with you Tina,” he mumbles. She lets out a sob of a giggle.

“Yes, yes, that’s alright, yes,” she whispers back, her eyes fluttering shut. 

Tentative lips brush hers, softly, sweetly. Tina gives her mouth to him, willingly. She can’t remember the last time she’s been kissed, but she’s certain it’s never been like this. Like sinking into a warm bath. Like coming home. Newt sighs, as she opens her mouth, wrapping an arm more firmly around her waist. Tina slowly raises a hand up, curling it into his hair tightly. They sway together, at peace in each other’s arms. 

A muffled screech vibrates the floor beneath them. Newt’s tongue pauses its ministrations, and Tina’s hand stops clutching at his hair. The cry comes again, louder and more terrified. Their lips part with a soft pop, and he kisses her cheek apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, but I think that’s Helen, she’s a fire crab, not used to her surroundings,” he mutters, eyes equally full of upset at the loss of their embrace and concern for his creature. Tina smiles bemusedly at his clear conflict. As if she’d ever expect him to put her before his creatures.

“Can I help?” she asks softly, and his eyebrows raise in delight. 

“Yes of course, if you’d like to” he splutters, a wide grin forming on his face, “it does depend how much of a nuisance she’s being, but I’d like you to see, well, everything,” 

“Okay,” she says happily, as he takes her hand again, pulling her out of the corridor into his abode. 

She’s not very surprised to see that his apartment doesn’t look particularly, homely. When she pictured Newt she always pictured him rushing round his case, or trampling through a forest or jungle. Never sitting at home alone, with a paper and cooked breakfast. His couch is cover in dust, and his sink is empty of cups and plates. A bottle of champagne has tipped itself over, it’s bubbles soaking the wooden floor. Tina takes everything in hungrily despite the rooms emptiness. This is his place; he lives, eats and sleeps here. Not seeing her want to look around, to take in every inch, Newt’s pulling her enthusiastically towards an open door at the end of the room. Reaching for the door knob, he suddenly stops abruptly, holding onto her wrists, pinning her in place. 

“Wait there,” he says firmly, and she nods dizzily, watching him stride over to his cupboards, opening them haphazardly, ducking his head into each one, searching for something. 

“Ah ha!” he cries in success, snatching up his prize before turning towards her. 

Newt rubs a soft thumb over her the back of her hand, before bringing up to his mouth. Tina watches in a trance, and his turns over her hand, her palm staring at him. His eyes bore into hers, black pupils slowly overtaking the green. He leans down again, but this time, Newt licks a trail along her wrist. Tina gasps softly, as he presses a firm kiss to her pulse point. He looks up, eyes equally as dark, but also uncertain, clearly unsure about what her reaction will be. Heart full, she leans down tentatively and pecks the tip of his nose lovingly. Sighing gratefully, he lengthens himself, revealing the package in his curled up palm. It’s a shaker full of pepper. Tina laughs breathlessly, as his shakes some onto her wrist, and rubbing it into her skin as though it could stick there. 

“There, now you have to stay,” Newt says smugly, nodding frantically at her and Tina beams back. 

"Now I'm staying," she says blissfully and he re-takes her hand almost dragging her through the door. Tina follows along dreamily into down a flight of stairs, where she's greeted with a cascade of calls and squawks. She feels as a boulder has been removed off her shoulders, and she practically floats next to him. She's finally with Newt again, and back with his creatures. Tina's finally home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure in Newt's basement causes Tina to take a unanticipated bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I know this chapter is a little short compared to the last one, but it contains danger and niffler cuteness so hopefully everyone likes it.

Tina stares round Newt’s basement, a silly smile growing around her mouth. Now this is his true home. The place seems to breath with the word ‘Newt’. The walls were cluttered with hastily written notes made in his haphazard writing, and various pieces of torn clothing and half-eaten meals were placed in here and there on cracked plates. Making their way down one of the various staircases, Tina pretends not to looks as he silently vanishes away the mess, slightly pink in the face, his fingers clutching hers tightly. Newt mumbles something about ‘not having visitors often,’ and she shakes her head, a silent ‘don’t worry’. She honestly doesn't. She prefers the characteristic chaos down here to his bare-bone apartment. Tina can almost see Newt's shoulders straightening, a spring appearing in his step as they pass a variety of different creatures all poking their heads out to say a happy ‘hello’. Tina would’ve dearly liked to stop at each one, to meet each one properly. However, she can see why Newt isn’t letting them, his gaze fully focused on reaching the dark smoke that’s billowing out from a far corner.

They finally reach the bottom of the stone steps, where a large desk covered in papers sits, and extremely familiar case is lying peacefully shut on a table. Behind his workspace a large mass of water lies, and Tina watches curiously as foreboding bubbles bounce up to the surface, bursting with small pops. 

It’s absurdly hot down here, and Tina pulls at uncomfortably at her heavy leather coat, which is sticking to her sweaty skin. Streaks of flame burst above their heads and she ducks. Newt, however, is bustling around like a busy bee, picking up various silver utensils and strangely a packet of chocolate biscuits. Tina watches him, a dull feeling of helplessness eating away at her. She may have read his book, multiple times. But she’ll never match the sheer expanse of knowledge the magizoologist has. She rocks backwards and forwards on her toes uncomfortably, caught between wanting to help, but not wanting to get in the way.

“Can I do anything?” she offers timidly, anxiously playing with her fingers.

Newt has stuck his wand in his mouth, his hands now too full for him to properly hold it. 

“I’m sorry, but no I don’t think so,” he says muffled, struggling to speak around the wood, “she’s probably been spooked, I think she should only be approached by someone she knows and trusts,”

“Right,” Tina says understandingly, despite the itch under her skin to do something. 

Newt seemingly sensing this need in her, cocks a hip out in thought looking around him. Eventually he takes a step towards her, accidentally stepping on something that makes a sudden, metallic, crunch which makes them both jump and look down. A shiny gold coin pokes out from under his heel. Newt’s eyes narrow suspiciously. 

“I have a theory of who disturbed my fire-crab,” Newt says darkly, pushing the coin around with the toe of his shoe. 

“Tina, do you mind checking on the baby nifflers?” he sighs, flicking his head upstairs where she can just catch a glimpse of a cage seemingly sparkling with jewels. 

“You’ve got baby nifflers?” Tina squeaks, half excited, half concerned at the destruction such babies could cause if they put their minds to it. 

“They already have a habit of escaping, the little buggers,” Newt shakes his head, amused, before turning away from here, and walking towards the flames, “I shouldn’t be long, and then I’ll show you round properly,” he promises over his shoulder. 

“How many nifflers are there?” Tina calls to his retreating form.

“Four!” he yells back before disappearing into the smoke. 

“Four, okay then,” she mutters to herself, quickly climbing up the stairs and peering into the cage where some furry bullets are playing. 

The cage is overflowing with flashing money and jewellery; gold seems to be a clear favourite with the children. Although one of the smallest zooming around, has an elaborate silver ring set with a massive ruby caught between its paws. The little nifflers are racing around so fast, they make Tina’s eyes spin and she can’t possibly count the tiny blurs. A small paw tugs on her leg and she looks down to find the adult niffler scratching at her pants. 

“Hello there,” she says softly, bending down to pick him up. To her surprise and delight he not only lets her, but buries her face into her neck. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” Tina giggles delightedly. He seems to be sniffing at her, then moaning happily. Does he recognise her still? After all this time? Unexpected warmth rushes through her, which has nothing to do with the humid basement.

“You’ve been busy, huh?” she says cheekily, pointing to where his children play, “are all these mischief makers yours then?” 

The niffler chatters excitedly, calling to his off spring. The babies reluctantly halt their game and sit still- or as still as they can, anyway- watching their father. One of them is still holding the ring. Another is wearing a sparkling bracelet like a belt. The last nibbling obsessively at a gold chain. There’s three. Three.

“Did Newt mean there’s four babies or that there’s four of you all together?” Tina asks the creatures nervously, peering round the cage, searching for another furry face that might be hidden under the treasure trove. 

No creature pops out. Tina scrunches up her face, anxietly bubbling against her chest. This is the first creature tasks Newt’s ever entrusted her to do alone and she wants desperately to succeed. She wants to prove to him that she can do it; to try learn to care for his creatures as well as he can, not just watching intrigued from the sidelines. Tina scratches a soft finger of the nifflers back, and he leans into her touch. She takes a deep breath in and then out. She can do this. All she has to do is think, ‘what would Newt do?’

Tina ponders this question, surveying the nifflers home. They love treasure- shiny things- that much is clear. So perhaps if she dropped some money around? Then the other baby- if there is another one- will be attracted?

She tugs out the money bag from her pocket, rummaging round for a few gallons and sickles she’s recently acquired. The coins click as she pulls them out and all of the baby nifflers press their little faces up against the bars of their cage, nose sniffing greedily. Even the grown niffler in her arms gives a whine. 

“So this is going to work then,” Tina smiles, flushed at the success of her deduction.

She carefully bends down and rolls the money down the stairs, listening to the bright clinks as each one hits the stone steps. The niffler in her arm jolts, but Tina holds him tight. Watching, waiting, holding her breath. There’s only silence. Perhaps there is only three babies and everything is fine. She’s just about to summon her money back towards her pocket when suddenly; a scuffling, a scratching. Then a fur ball, weighed down by the immense amount of coins condensed in his belly, waddles up to her booty. Tina raises an eyebrow, watching as a tiny scoundrel tries again and again to stuff her coins into his overflowing pouch. 

“Gotcha,” Tina says gratefully, scampering down the stairs to catch him, still clutching the father niffler in her arms. 

The baby creature’s eyes widen comically and attempts to scuttles away with as much gold as he can carry. Their race sees the coins flying every which way, and Tina’s chase is made much harder by the child’s insistence at collected every single one. Round and round the table the niffler runs, up and over Newt’s desk blowing the papers to disarray. Tina’s fingers keep snatching at thin air, always a wings breath away from her prize. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she sets the adult niffler down, and searches avidly through her pockets for her wand, ready to resort to summoning the creature. 

A sharp cry pulls her out of her thoughts. 

The older niffler is sprinting after his young child. The baby is busy chasing a golden coin which has managed to turn itself on its edge, enabling it to be able to run along the floorboards and plop into the murky pool. She watches in horror as the little creature leaps in after it, disappearing with a splash. It’s father teeters on the edge, squealing desperately, but refusing to jump in. Tina rushes up to the edge, one hand clutching her stomach, fear sinking into her bones. The baby’s does not emerge. From the father’s frantic cries but dry claws she gathers nifflers cannot swim. Swallowing harshly, remembering the ominous bubbles that had floated to the surface of the water only minutes before. 

She hurries to kick off her shoes and shrug off her coat, carefully placing her wand on top of the pile of clothes. ‘It’s probably just a plimpy or a hippocampus’ Tina tells herself firmly, wrapping her courage around her like a blanket, ‘nothing too dangerous,’. She crouches down next to the shuddering niffler, who’s pawing gloomily at the water. 

“I’m going in after him, don’t worry,” she tells him tenderly, “but go and get Newt! Quickly!” The niffler stares up at her blankly for a moment, the he kisses her nose softly then races off. 

Touched, Tina stares after him for a second. Then she also takes the plunge.

The freezing cold water makes her gasp with shock. Tina peers down into the murky darkness, searching. There! A sinking niffler racing desperately after a shiny gold coin. She moves to swim after it, but is weighed down by her water engulfed clothes that billow up around her. 

Whoosh. A shock wave of bubbles shakes the water below her. Tina’s heart stops. A giant mass of what seems to be a stallion made out of weed circling the distracted baby. The equestrian shark shakes its mane, moving even closer to its prey. Tina can almost see it licking it’s chops. She tentative swims closer, her courage cloak unraveling somewhat. She thinks she may know what the creature is now, although the knowledge does nothing to quell her racing pulse. It’s a kelpie. A creature that Newt’s book informed her, eats humans and then lets their entrails float to the surface. And now its sights are set on that poor, defenceless niffler. 

A sharp anger rises up in Tina’s chest. She might find the kelpie majestic and powerful, but she will not let that darling, gold loving creature be its lunch. Ignoring her bursting lungs, she dives down into the fray and snatches out the now limp niffler from its predators waiting mouth. Tina holds the wet lump tight to her chest, cooing softly.

The kelpie blows scalding water out from its nostrils, frustrated at the loss of his little snack. So instead of the tiny creature, he instead decides to bite down on the only other, and admittedly larger prize in sight. A human’s arm. 

Tina shouts in pain, exclamatives shooting out of her mouth as bubbles. The kelpies grip is unyielding and its razor teeth sharp. Dark blood stains the water at an alarmingly rate. Cursing herself for not bringing her wand, and lungs close to popping she dizzily bops the creature hard on the nose. The kelpie squeals and for a second it's jaws tighten. But than thankfully it abruptly let’s her go. She gets a quick glance of large, shining eyes the colour of dried seaweed before Tina’s vision goes blurry. She clutches the baby closer to her, this time not for protection, but for comfort. Mercy Lewis, this is such a dumb way to die. 

She absently feels a hard but strangely slimy surface under her legs, and suddenly she’s pushed upwards, and push into the open hair. Tina crashes hard onto the floor, gulping in deep, frantic breaths of air 

“What on earth were you thinking!” Newt shouts loudly. Tina’s eyes flutter open to find his red face, distorted into uncharacteristic anger, scowling at down at her. She can hear the tiny grunts of the baby niffler also trying to expel what must be a lake of water from its lungs. It’s alive.

“Thank god,” she murmurs, trying to shift her body to get a better look at the shuddering creature. But she's impended by a shock wave of agony that ripples up her arm. Tina winces, throwing her head back on the ground causing a dull ache to trickle into her skull. 

“Tina,” Newt’s voice is dangerously low. She’s never heard him furious before, and this anger is directed at her. She shuts her eyes tight at his harsh tone, face flushed with both pain and embarrassment, “what on earth caused you to jump into the kelpie enclosure? Not even my assistant is allowed to do so, only myself! You've gotten seriously injured” 

Tina attempts to sit up, but her limps feel like jelly and her one usable arm refuses to support her. She hears Newt huff out a frustrated, but his hand is gentle as it supports back, helping her sit up. He also whispers a soft spell and her saturated clothes are suddenly warm and dry again. Tina blinks around at her strange surroundings. Instead of appearing in Newt’s office space, it seems the water has been magically raised and she’s been spat out on an entirely different level of Newt’s hospital. Her coat, shoes and wand are nowhere to be found. The kelpie’s is studying her severely; no doubt it was he who gave her a ride to the surface. She gives the creature a short nod in thanks, and after a moment it also bows its head, his sea deep eyes boring into hers, before diving back under the surface with a splash. 

“How’d you get him to trust you?” Newt says incredulously, his firm hand still rested on her back “he still bites Bunty,” 

Tina shrugs, not really knowing herself.

“I punched it in the nose,” she admits the only thing that comes to mind, and Newt’s nails dig into her shoulder. 

“All because,” she quickly interrupts his harsh intake of breath, not in the mood for another outburst, “this poor little thing jumped in after a coin,” she gently runs a finger over the baby nifflers back.  
Its father has now also caught up with his child and is cuddling up to the sulking creature, licking its damp face lovingly. She hears Newt’s soft ‘oh’ caress her ear, and he quickly whips up the baby in his hands, and begins examining him fervently; looking into its eyes with the bright tip of his wand, and massaging it’s little tummy. The niffler elder paws at her hip, causing Tina to look down curiously. He nuzzles her leg, before upturning his pocket presenting her with what must be the jewel of its collection; a glittering tiara, weighted down by diamonds and gold leaf. She touches it gingerly, almost afraid at its splendour. Her parents were never rich people, her and Queenie even less so. She’s only seen accessory’s like this on duchess’s heads in magazines. 

“I can’t take it,” Tina says wetly, as the niffler pushes it towards her it’s dark eyes imploring. 

“Mummies tiara,” Newt says wondrously, “she’s been looking for that for years you little bugger,” 

“No, no,” Tina says still addressing the persistent niffler.

(She’s refusing to touch the fact that Newt’s family is rich enough to afford a tiara- that’s a whole different dilemma she didn’t even contemplate. How the Scamander’s, a clearly rich, posh, British family, going to react to Tina Goldstein, a lower-middle class, American Jew is something for her nightmares later).

“Look,” she says sweeping her own beloved necklace off her neck, and handing it to the wide eyed niffler, “we can swap for a bit okay?” 

The niffler holds her gift in its paws reverently, and chatters excitedly to his son sitting in Newt’s fingertips. The baby wriggles down from Newt’s grip to examine it as well, dancing around her knee happily seemingly fully forgotten his traumatic experience. Tina stares down at the furry pair, a dopey smile dancing around her mouth. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Newt’s eyes are soft when they meet, his previous fury also dissolved, “it was your mothers,” 

“I wanted to,” she says groggily, suddenly feeling quite tired, her eyelids heavy. She shuts them for a moment and finds it hard to raise them again. Tina realises what she thought was water dripping down from her damp hair and onto her leg, is actually warm, sticky, blood. She feels herself slowly unwinding, Newt's concerned exclamations falling on incoherent ears, her head once again hitting the floor with a dull thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone liked it! I don't actually know if nifflers can swim or not, so I decided not- feel free to rebuff me if I'm wrong.  
> And don't worry there will be more Newtina fluff in the next chapter. In fact things might get a little steamy....


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's wound needing to be cleaned, leads the pair of them to fall into a tempting position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Sorry it's been so long, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it. It's full of adorable interactions and things may even get a little heated!  
> Hope everyone enjoys

“It cold,” Tina chatters, curling in on herself, clutching her injured arm to her stomach. 

“You shouldn’t be cold Tina, it’s still quite hot in here,” Newt replies anxiously. But his voice sounds faint, as though from very far away. 

Tina shakes her head, like a dog hoping to rid its ears of water. Why does he sound like a fading echo? Isn’t that his hand on her leg? It's as if the hospital has suddenly been encased a thick fog, a fog that's spinning in a whirlpool. Her ears ring, and black spots float in and out of her blurry vision. Tina shuts her eyes tight, the sudden dark a relief for her pounding headache. She’s so cold, and so ill and so tired. 

“It cold,” she says again settling her heavy head more comfortably on the floor boards. The two niffler’s are licking her cheeks, but not even their scratchy tongues are enough to make her open her eyes again, “I’m just going to have a quick nap, okay Newt,” she yawns, eyelids fluttering. 

“No, Tina, don’t go to sleep,” a strong hand shakes her shoulder, and she clumsily brushes it away, wincing at the sudden pain. 

“Accio!” she hears Newt shout desperately. A loud clunk vibrates her sensitive ears, and she whines at the unwanted sensation. Clearly he's summoned a large object. It better be a bed, somewhere she can fall into unconsciousness in peace.

“Tina, Tina,” she feels rough fingers cup her cheek, and she leans nuzzles into his touch. A breath of a sob caresses her face. 

“Tina, I’m really, really sorry about this,” Newt says apologetically and Tina shakes her head tiredly. It could’ve meant ‘no’, ‘yes’, or ‘I don’t know’. Even she’s not sure. 

Strong arms wrap around her waist, and lift her as easy as if she was a rag doll. She moans in pain, but Newt has determination written into is brow and he doesn’t put her down. Tina blinks blearily down out him, her waist pressed tightly into his torso. Her weight doesn’t seem to bother him at all; she knows she’s not that light. A warm tingle rushes through her at the thought of what his supposed lithe frame must be hiding. She lets her neck collapse, like a door on a hinge, to rest in his hair.

“You’re strong,” she mumbles appreciatively. His amused chuckle buzzes on her neck. 

“Well, ah, yes I suppose,” Newt says, and Tina smiles dopily at the slight smug note in his voice. 

A cool surface hits the back of her legs and Tina looks down to find he’s placed her on to of a white bath. There's a large crumbly rust stained on it's bottom and the disconnected tap has a deep crack down its shiny surface. But the tub is made from creamy marble, and its base is held off the ground by golden hippogriff claws. Newt slowly tries to remove from their embrace, but Tina teeters dizzily on her perch and grabs for him, catching him by the shoulders. 

“Why a bath?” she asks croakily. He bows his head, jaw twitching. 

“That wound needs cleaning, you’re shivering and I think beginning to go into shock,” Newt watches her nervously, from under his lashes, “I don’t want you going to sleep, it wouldn’t be smart right now,” 

Tina gapes at him, mouthing soundless words as he fills the bath with his wand.  
He determinedly ignores her, sweeping a finger through the steaming water and summoning a bowl containing something that looks suspiciously alive. 

“But,” she squeaks eventually, “I can’t have a bath in my clothes,” hoping he ignores the fact that she just voluntarily went for a swim in a pool, managed to do so with her socks on. 

“No, no you can’t,” Newt says quietly pink overflowing his cheeks, throwing what was in the bowl- a large collection of wriggling tentacles- into the steaming water with a plop. 

Tina clutches at her necklace, turning the chain roughly between her fingers, her anxiety caught in her throat. 

“How exactly are you proposing I have one then?” she spits out self-consciously, wrapping her non-injured arm around her waist. 

He swallows tightly, running a nervous finger round the edge of the bowl. 

“You’re, you’re wearing underthings aren’t you,” he says awkwardly, his gaze firmly directly about an inch away from her mouth. 

Now Tina’s the one to swallow, and it feels like she’s just tried to swallow a watermelon. She feels her face heat up and she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. She’d expected this evening to end with snuggling up in the moth eaten blanket in her drafty hotel room. Not having a hot bath in her underwear in front of one Newt Scamander. The tension between them is thick enough to wade through. Tina doesn’t know whether it would be best to begin undressing now or simply fall backwards into the water. Anything to end this terrible silence. Newt finally seems to realise the cause of her indecision, and takes a few frantic steps backwards.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he blurts out, snapping his braces self-consciously against his stomach, “just call me when you’re ready,” 

“Okay,” Tina gulps, and Newt nods at her for a minute then turns on his heel and almost runs away. 

She watches his ginger hair disappear down the stone steps and takes a deep breath. ‘You can do this Tina, it’s simple, all you have to do,’ she shudders uncomfortably, ‘is take your clothes off,’. She looks down. Her shirt is stained with red fluid, dripping from a wound that looks like a dark smile sneaking through her torn sleeve. The throbbing in her arm is constant, insistent. Tina tentatively attempts to move it, but almost cries out at the pain. An absurd giggle works its way out of her throat. 

“Okay, perhaps pants first,” she says to herself, laughing under her breath. 

Tina, with her good hand, pops her pant button out from its hole and slowly drags down the zipper. The kelpie drags it’s head out of the water to stare at her, it’s large doe eyes cautious. Tina smiles at it softly, shaking her head. 

“Don't worry, I forgive you,” she says attempting to wiggle her pants down her legs without crashing prematurely into the water behind her, “but perhaps don’t try to eat any nifflers next time, okay?” the weedy creature's mouth opens into a wide sheepish grin, and dives back down into the deep, splashing her cheekily. 

Tina kicks her pants off, leaving her bottom half exposed, grateful that despite the fact they bunch up under her pants, she’s got on her old underwear on, the ones that end in the middle of her thighs. All her newer, 'modern' ones are structured shorter, barely managing to cover anything important at all. If Newt saw her in those she'd probably faint; but these she might be able to handle. Maybe.  
She hooks her toes under her socks, attempting to take them off with her feet, biting her tongue in concentration as she flicks them off. Flushed with her success, Tina, a bit too self-assured begins to confidently undo her shirt buttons. That initially goes fine. She manages to pull her uninjured arm out of it’s sleeve, but her uninjured arm proves more difficult. She can’t help the whimper that falls out of her lips. Not being about to bend the damn thing is the least of her worries. Tina could’ve probably managed to carefully pull her sleeve over her arm with minimal pain. But the fabric of her sleeve keeps getting bunched up in her wound, getting caught, a rouge button brushing it accidentally and it smarts so much that tears drop out of her eyes. Tina slumps defeated. Her wand is down stairs, a good distance away from her empty fingers, and her limbs feel weak and heavy. She doesn’t trust herself to try to stand let alone walk. 

She huffs in defeat, neck reaching, trying to catch a glimpse of Newt’s curls. Nothing. Mercy Lewis. 

“Newt?” she cries pathetically. Silence. Then a rush of footsteps thud up the stairs, and his head emerges from downstairs, worry condensed on his features. 

Newt wobbles on the last stair, his concerned eyes widening at her state, and for a moment they rake down her body. Tina bites her lip at his gaze, watching how his green pools darken to a black abyss that radiates with heat. He lingers on her bare legs and brushes over her naked thighs. She self-consciously rubs her uninjured hand over her upper leg and Newt visibly starts- almost jumps- and turns swiftly away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…it’s just you’re,” he stutters hanging his head in clear shame. Although there’s a note in his voice, a darkness, a deepness, that causes Tina’s jaw to clench, “what do you need?” he eventually asks timidly. 

“I,” she starts, equally nervous about what she has to ask. But surely if he’s going to tend her wound he’s going to have to see her in this state anyway? “I need some help, in getting my shirt off,” 

Newt’s neck flushes a deep red, and his back is as straight as a board. Tina can almost see his muscles vibrating with tension. He doesn’t turn around. 

“Help?” he says, his voice unnaturally high. 

“Yes, I ah, I can’t get my sleeve past my wound,” Tina explains the back of his head, tugging lightly on her sleeve.

Newt spins round, horror encrypted on his face. 

“Of course you can’t, I’m so sorry, I should’ve realised,” he say, shaking his head in clear self-loathing and walking firmly towards her. 

“It’s not your fault I can’t undress myself,” Tina rolls her eyes with a trembling smile. He gives her one back- just. 

Newt raises his eyebrows and simple question, and she nods her consent, holding out her injured arm. He reaches out, fingering the small buttons at that hold her cuff together. Tina hisses sharply at his touch, a quick intake of breath, one that would have gone completely unnoticed if it wasn't for their close proximity. She looks up nervously, shrinking in on herself, like an ostrich hiding it's head in a hole. Newt however seems to reveal in it, visibly calming, and managing to undo her buttons with one smooth motion. The freed buttons allow her skin to be open just below her elbow, and allows about an inch of injury to touch the air. She hisses and Newt looks up at her, concerned.

“You okay?” he asks gently, rubbing his thumb gently over her pulse point, and Tina’s tremendous breathing turns into short pants.

His touch is like an electric shock, and for a moment makes her forget the piecing pain that resonates through her elbow. Newt rubs his thumb higher, and she gasps at the fireworks bouncing up her spine, and he nods happily. He seems to be almost gaging her reaction, Tina realises with a jolt, and judging from his soft smile he likes what he sees. She cocks her head, a strange competitive feeling rising up in her. She raises her uninjured arm slowly, up over her head under the pretence of stretching. Her shirt, which was resting on her shoulders, falls off, leaving all but her right arm exposed and bare to him. She raises her gaze to his defensively, raising a reckless eyebrow. 

But to Tina’s surprise Newt looks her dead in the eye, his pupils large and blown wide. His cheeks may be red, but his confidence seems to have grown even more, his shoulders broadening, thumb pressing harder. He moves even closer to her, so close in face that she’ll have to open her legs for him if he takes another step. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers smiling softly, reaching out his other hand to brush a smooth nail along her collar bone. 

Tina shudders, her head falling forward hitting his chest. She cannot help the silly smile that grows like a sunflower on her face. She feels what must be the tip of his wand press into her elbow and after a murmured spell her shirt gently crumples on the floor. His fingers move to play with the hair on back of her neck and Tina unconsciously hums, nuzzling into him. They stay like that for a while, Newt lightly massaging her scalp, Tina leaning comfortably against his chest. Until blood begins to drip on Newt’s shoes, causing him to fall back one hand rubbing the back of his head and her to shake herself out of her flushed state. 

“Come on, bath, in,” he orders lightly, pointing at the steaming water. 

Tina looks down distastefully at the bobbing tentacles, that rise out of the water like tiny sea serpents.

“They’re just murlap tentacles,” Newt says, touching her arm gently. He must have noticed her scrunched up nose, distasteful expression, “they might feel a little funny, but they’ll help clean and sooth your wound,” 

Tina nervously sticks an inch of toe in the water. It’s satisfyingly warm and smooth; although she swears one of the tentacles sucks at her slightly when it brushes against her skin. Slowly she slides in, the water running up her legs, chest, till it hits the top of her chin. The only body part remaining uncovered is Tina’s uninjured arm, which she’s instinctively held out of the burning liquid.  
Newt presses down on the raised arm lightly. 

“It’ll help, trust me,” he smiles a crooked smile down at her, and her cheeks pink slightly. How could she not? 

Tina bites her lip, lowering her arm carefully into the swell. She winces pre-emptively for the pain that is sure to come- but it never comes. Instead the water acts like a soothing balm over the gaping wound. She gapes, astounded, as the pain slowly ebbs away. Tina looks up at Newt, whose lips are quivering with a smug grin. She frowns at him darkly, but there’s no heat behind it.

“How?” she asks, too astounded to be truly annoyed at his self-satisfied features. 

“Magic,” he says drily, and his eyes are dancing. He pulls out a cloth from his sleeve, seemingly from thin air, just like a common no-maj magician. 

“Newt,” she apprehends him, and abashed he kneels down next to her. 

“It’s because, well,” he trails off, all his teasing gone, face suddenly downcast, “Are you sure Tina? No one ever really wants to hear about creature’s medical uses,” 

“But your book?” Tina crinkles her nose up in confusion, “you’re famous! Surely you’ve received plenty of questions about them from your fans,”

If possible Newt slumps even further, and if Tina hadn’t been stuck in a bath she would’ve hugged him.  
“Famous,” he scoffs, a deep frown edged in his brow, “I thought I’d be spreading love about magical creatures, but instead all anyone wants to hear about is me,”  
Tina’s heart wretches at the obvious disgust in his voice, 

“They’re just so fascinating, and still no one seems to see it,” he tugs at his hair, in a frustrated manner, pulling what must be painfully at the skin of his forehead, “even Theseus, my brother, and Leta, my oldest friend…all they want to do is talk about is me and when I’m coming over to their house for dinner,” 

Newt rests his head against the cool rim of the tub, letting out a long sigh. Tina, sensitive to his feelings, raises a tentative hand and lowers it onto his hair, stroking gently. She sees his shoulders slowly melt at her ministrations, and she smiles feeling an intense satisfaction shine from her toes to her fingertips at his relaxed state. She rakes her fingernails over his scalp, humming at the sparks that come from her skin on his. Unable to stop herself, Tina does it again, harder this time, and Newt moans. A low, gruff moan, radiating with wildness which vibrates her fingertips and lights her belly in a way that makes her gulp. They both freeze and he tightens up all over again, like a skittish animal getting ready to escape. Tina, frantic to keep the calm she created, struggles to find something profound to say to make him stay. 

“Well,” she says eventually, making sure not to touch his scalp again as she runs her fingers through her fringe, “just to let you know, I’ll always want to hear about your creatures,” 

He looks up, eyes nervous, hair mused, stuttering. Tina stills her hand, letting him take control over himself. 

“But what if you find it boring or annoying?” he asks softly, and by his childish tone she knows he’s been told his before. And most likely by someone he trusts and cares about. 

Passionate anger burns within her, but she forces herself to stay composed, cupping his cheek firmly. 

“Newt I promise, I will never, ever find them boring,” she tells him honestly, stroking his skin, his stubble burning her palm satisfyingly. Newt still looks unconvinced, eyes twitching between her and the water uncomfortably. She was going to take this secret with her to grave, not even Queenie knew or she would’ve teased her about it. 

“Actually I used to read the letters you sent me about creature habits twice, sometimes even three times,” she admits nervously, “and…and I sleep with your book under my pillow,” now her eyes are the ones to flicker to the water.

A soft finger grazes her chin, and she forces herself to look at him. Newt’s staring at her in a way she last saw at the docks, as they were saying goodbye. His face is completely open, soft and filled with admiration. 

“Tina,” he leans in, brushing his nose with hers, “I really, really, really like you,” 

“I really, really, really, like you too, Newt,” she says softly, her lips ghosting over his. 

Tina waits, on the edge, for him to kiss her, to sweep her off her feet. But instead he moves upwards to place a quick peck on her forehead. She resists the urge to pout, but doesn’t let her disappointment go in her eyes. 

“I’ll clean you wound first,” he mumbles, “then I’ll kiss you properly,” he presses his thumb lightly on her bottom lip and Tina shivers, holding out her arm to him mindlessly, mind wandering deliciously. 

Newt dips the cloth into the water, mere inches away from her thigh, and wrings it out.

“This may sting a bit,” he warms her and Tina nods preparing herself. 

It does smart a little, but nowhere near as much as it should. ‘How?’ She thinks ponderously, poking a fascinated finger at the murtlaps slimy appendages. How could a creature that gnawed at Jacob’s neck, also soothe a bloody injury? 

“Newt?” Tina asks shyly, and he hums, fully concentrated on his task, “would you mind telling me how murtlap tentacles aid the pain?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” he exclaims excitedly, eyes gleaming, “It’s not just the pain actually, it also helps clean the wound, I believe it’s something to do with the mucus they secrete…”

Tina rests her head on the cool surface of the bath, relaxed to an almost boneless state; at Newt’s soft touch and his enthusiasm. His words are almost tripping over each other, and she smiles at him stupidly, thanking her lucky stars that she just happened to run into this fantastic man. She’s so a peace that she closes her eyes again, being rocked to sleep by the warm water and his words. 

“Tina?” Newt asks tentatively, and she blearily opens her eyes to his self-conscious face. 

“Sorry, I know I rambled on a bit,” he says apologetically. 

“No, no,” Tina hurries to sit up, to reassure him, the bath water abruptly rushing back and forth splashing her chin, “I was listening, I actually have quite a few questions about how, when eaten, they protect you from jinxes,” 

Newt visibly deflates with relief, and Tina promises herself fiercely that every day for the rest of her life, she will make sure he knows that she listens to him. (And hex anyone that doesn’t) 

“It’s just,” she yawns, stretching out her limbs, feelings them crack, “I still feel so incredibly sleepy,” 

“That’s probably the blood loss,” Newt tisks concerned, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead,” I still don’t think it would be a good idea for you to take a nap yet,” 

(Let the record state, that Tina entirely blames her injury, and tired mind for what popped out of her mouth next.)

“I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open,” she rubs one eye, sinking back down into the water, “perhaps if you got in here with me, I’d stay awake,” 

There’s a silence as her words slowly compute in her brain. Newt’s mouth slowly unhinges and Tina slowly resists the urge to attempt to apparate without a wand. A hot blush burns up her neck and across her neck and she squeezes her eyes tight hoping desperately for the sudden power to turn back time. Tina’s about to suggest he leaves her in peace so she can drown herself in embarrassment, when Newt clears his throat. 

“I mean,” he says, his ears pink, one hair carding through his hair, “if you think it would help,” 

Tina can practically feel her eyes bulging out of her head, as Newt tentatively slides his suspenders off his shoulders. She discreetly pinches herself the wrist, to make sure that this isn’t a dream. That she, Tina Goldstein, is actually currently dressed only in her underwear and sat in a hot bath, watching one Newt Scamander deftly unbuttoning his shirt getting ready to join her. She feels as if she should say something, but the dry spider-web in her mouth is preventing her to do so. As is Newt’s chest, which is now exposed to her as his shirt falls to the ground. He’s incredibly brown, charmingly freckly, covered in an array of scars and surprisingly built. There’s one scar, one that cuts into his stomach deep, a jagged indentation that disappears into his belt, and down his pant leg. Tina can’t help her mouth-watering, wondering what it would feel like against her skin. Would it feel as good as his calloused hands on her chin? Mercy Lewis. Tina shuts her eyes, dipping her hair in the water, letting the hot water soak into her scalp. But not even this distracting sensation can stop the sound of a belt buckle clattering on the ground and invading her ears. 

“Tina?” he asks her casually, as if he’s not only dressed in his underwear beside her.

“Yes?” she replies, her voice unusually high, still not opening her eyes. 

“Do you mind leaning forward a little?” he asks gently, placing his hand on the bath near her shoulders.  
She complies without thinking, sitting up and shifting forward, wet strands of her hair sticking to the back of her neck. It’s only when she feels a small wave splash her back, and his foot awkwardly brush against her hip, when Tina realises what he’s doing. 

“Newt!” she cries, and he almost falls in behind her, crashing down with a loud ‘oof!” 

“Sorry, but I just didn’t think I was going to fit the other way,” Newt whispers in her ear, stretching out his legs, and they brush next to hers. 

This would probably be true, as Tina’s feet are brushing the other end of the tub. If they’d sat facing each other, they probably would have ended up like two folded chairs, knees up to their chins. However, being surrounded from all sides by Newt’s bare skin is causing Tina to hyperventilate a little. She sits trembling in the water, if she moves in anyway she’ll touch him, and each small. She takes a great shuddering breath but it doesn’t prevent every single one of her nerves is standing on end. A cautious hand strokes a line between her shoulder blades and Tina chokes on air. The hand quickly removes itself. 

“I’m sorry Tina, I know my scars aren’t very attractive,” Newt sighs knowingly, and she almost bursts at the seams at his entirely inaccurate statement. 

Tina turns around, sat on her knees to stare at him properly. He’s staring self-consciously down at the water, hiding in his droopy fringe. The part of the stomach that is poked out of the water, may be the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen- scars and all. 

“Newt, it’s not that,” she shakes her head dizzily, “it’s the opposite…you make me feel…” she trails off, crossing her arms over her chest, embarrassed for reacting in such a way when he still looks so collected. 

“Tina,” she looks up. Newt’s watching her from under his lashes, his chest is rapidly rising and falling. Concerned, she presses her hand on his thigh. His eyes flutter shut, and Tina can feel his muscles clench underneath her. 

“C’mere,” he breaths, motioning to his chest.

Something big and wondrous swells up in Tina’s throat, and she tentatively slides down, resting her head against his neck. They both sigh at their embrace, and she feels Newt press his nose against her forehead. 

“You know, this isn’t exactly how I imagined our reunion,” he chuckles, and vibrates through her, from her head to her toes. Tina burrows her head more firmly into him and his arm encircles her waist. 

“How did you imagine it?” she asks him softly, fingers coming to rest comfortably on his chest. Newt clucks his tongue, considering. 

“I imagined that after I finally received my travel permit, I would quickly travel to New York to surprise you,” he whispers and Tina beams into his chest, “turn up at your apartment with my book and some sort of courting gift,” 

“Courting gift?” she asks him, half curious, half amused. Courting? Has anything changed in England since the Queen Victoria sat on the throne? Newt nods into her hair. 

“You know, flowers, chocolates, poems, something to show my intentions,” Tina can’t help but to kiss his throat, and she feels his swallow on her lips. 

“Just you and your creatures would’ve been enough,” she says and he tightens his arms around her, “though you may have also needed a letter from the king to prove you weren’t engaged,” 

“Really? You were so certain it was true?” Newt sounds more than a little put out, but Tina can’t help but nod. It’s the truth after all. 

“It sounds awful but yes, I was a coward, I…” she tells him painfully, shutting her eyes again to avoid his inquisitive gaze, “I didn’t want to write to you to ask, because I didn’t want to receive a passionate confirmation, to break my heart,” she takes a shuddering breath, struggling to calm her nerves “so I managed to convince myself you never cared about me at all,” 

Tina laughs humourlessly. Newt’s fingers begin to caress her arm gently. Like he was trying to speak through touch, a sweet message conveying feelings of comfort. She smiles gratefully, hugging him to her harder. Assuring herself that he’s here. That it’s his flesh and blood that’s wrapped around her. 

“We were probably lucky, lucky Queenie was here to spell it out for us,” Tina says awkwardly, “I was so ready to push away, so hurt because I thought I had been let on. You’d probably have had to chase me round the city, to be get to listen to the truth,” 

Soft fingers clip her chin upwards, and she blinks her eyes open, shame rushing over her. Tina knows how she would’ve treated Newt- except for when she forgot herself- and it probably wouldn’t have been very nice, instead surly, wanting to run away. His knowing eyes must recognise this truth in her own. 

“I probably would’ve have been very good at that, convincing you,” he admits nervously. Tina reaches up and catches a bunch of his curls. Newt leans into her touch, eyelids quivering. 

“Newt you’re, you’re magic, when you’re near I can’t help but fall into your world, can’t help but yearn to be near you,” he blinks at her speechless, and Tina blushes. Mercy Lewis, clearly too far, Goldstein, “I’m sure we would’ve gotten there eventually” she finishes eventually, voice wobbling a little. 

Newt takes a deep breath. Then, abruptly, he leans in to kiss her. Deeply, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. Tina sighs happily, letting herself get lost in his ardent embrace. Newt’s tongue brushes to top of her mouth, and she keens, her entire mouth falls loose to his advances. She vaguely hears the sound of water splashing, but all her senses are consumed with one thing and one thing only. It’s like drowning, drowning with air just in reach. Wanting so desperately to breath, all while being lured to the deep. Newt’s growling in her mouth, like he’s a beast, like she’s his prey. He’s kissing her so brutally, Tina’s afraid her lips will bruise, and she wraps her arms tighter around him wanting to share his skin. One of her hands is still caught in his hair, and she tugs at it desperately, and their teeth clack together as he moans. 

“Merlin Tina,” he rumbles breathlessly, pressing his nose into her forehead, her cheek, her chin, “I hope you know just how much I care about you,” his face is a bright ruby red, and his eyes are blown wide and wild. 

One of Tina’s lips is bleeding, she can feel the sharp sting, the metallic taste on her tongue. It’s like he’s marked her, made her his. Her blood hums, and she’s caught with the sudden urge to mark him back. 

“I know,” she mumbles, dizzily releasing the precarious position they’ve placed themselves in.

She’s practically straddling him. Both knees on either side of his hips, a dull pain shooting up her thighs. One of Newt’s hands is gripping her shoulders, but the other is splayed across the small of her back, his fingers dangerously close to dipping further. And now her top half has fully emerged from the water, and already her thin chemise, has become basically non-existent. Newt could easily get a free show if he so desired to look down. Normally this would cause her to cross her arms over her chest, however right now Tina can’t find it in herself to care. Not while Newt’s eyes are flashing at her, his soaked body pressed up against her own. Instead she dips her head, clumsily nipping at his neck, trying to catch every freckle. Newt groans again, louder, completely uninhibited. He throws his head back, and Tina follows, cupping his face in her hands, feeling strangely teary. 

“I thought I lost you,” she bites her lip, crushing their foreheads together. A single tear drips off her chin. 

“Never, Tina, never,” Newt says fiercely, pulling himself up, so she’s sitting in his lap, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, not for a single day passed when you weren’t in my thoughts,”

Her tears are falling thick and fast now, and Newt makes a point of kissing off every single one. 

“You know whenever I imagined us doing this,” he says, his voice smooth and smoky, “I never imagined us in a bath,”

Tina’s eyes widen, and she gapes at him helplessly, her tears frozen on her face.

“You imagined us…doing…” she lets her head fall forward, her cheek brushing against his scratchy stubble.

“I imagined us having dinner together, reading together, dancing together, just being together,” Newt’s sucks at the base her neck, much more confidently than her previous nervous nibbles, “but I couldn’t help myself sometimes, late at night, the memory of your enchanting eyes, nothing else could compare,” she can’t help but let out a whine as he squeezes her hip. 

Something warm and fluttery pools in her abdomen, and she can’t help but squeeze her thighs together. Which of course squeezes him; all of him. She’s never even seen, let alone felt before what is currently pressing into her thigh. Newt bites down on her neck as she curiously squeezes again. The water seems to have gotten three times hotter, Tina’s hair is sticking to the back of her neck, and stray curls are curling on Newt’s forehead. 

“I’m, sorry,” she stutters, trying her best to stay still, trying her best not to feel the pulsing hardness, “It’s just…I’ve never… I don’t know what came over me,”

“Don’t apologise, don’t apologise ever again, it’s my fault” he says gently, moving her sticky fringe out of her eyes, “I should’ve asked you about your experience before I mauled you,” he leans to kiss his bite mark gently, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Nothing,” she says croakily, and Newt looks up his eyebrows brushing his hairline, “I haven’t really done anything before,”

“Nothing? But…” he looks horrified, his fingers halting their gentle strokes on her ribs, “Tina, why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I liked it, it felt good,” Tina says cheeks red, tracing around the scars that line his stomach, “I just wasn’t expecting-“ she inclines her head a little, but refuses to look down. Not when she knows what’s under the tent in his trousers. She feels her hot blush crawl down her neck. 

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear that I found it 'good' too,” Newt says so matter-a-factly that she can’t help but laugh. He begins to chuckle too, leaning in to give her a light kiss. 

“I’m sorry I’m so innocent about things like this,” she says flicking a stray tear out of her eyes, after they finally calm down “it’s just I never imagined…not before marriage anyway,” she bites down on the inside of her cheek nervously, dipping her gaze.

“And I never really thought I’d get married in any case,” she admits, downcast at her past loneliness she’d aligned herself to.

“Me either,” Newt says, as if the words have slipped past his lips. 

Tina looks up. Newt’s toying with the side of the bath, tapping his ring finger on the rim. She imagines that much like she expected to be devoted to her work for life, he had also resigned himself to his manuscript, content for his creatures to be his only company. Both scenarios would be fine lives, both of them reaching the top of their fields, becoming successful, living out their childhood dreams- a head auror, a leading magizoologist. Both perfectly fine lives. But then why, now, were they both so subdued at the concept? 

Tina cups his cheek gently, and Newt leans into her touch, kissing her thumb lightly. He sighs at her soft intake of breath. 

“I can now,” Tina confesses, “picture myself being married I mean,” the muscles in Newt’s hand freeze, and she bites her lip. ‘Definitely too far, Tina.’ 

But she can. His legs entwined with hers at the breakfast table, her head in his lap as she talks about her day. Helping him with the creatures till the early hours of the morning, sharing sweet kisses along the way. Perhaps tiny feet? Tina’s always loved children. A little boy with red curls, dirt on his nose, a stuffed dragon carried in his chubby fists (or knowing Newt, maybe even a real dragon). And he would kiss his sweet little cheek and then Newt would lift him up onto his shoulders. Does he want children? He’d be a terrific father; understanding, patient, caring. 

Her musings are interrupted by Newt’s kiss. It not like the others, not nervous, not passionate. Instead it’s peaceful, right. A kiss full of promise. 

“I can see it too,” Newt says, lips and inch from hers, and she feels rather than hears his declaration. 

Tina can’t help but smile, her happiness shining out from every pore. She can’t remember the last time she felt like this. Pure joy- She feels like dancing, yelling up into the stars. If magic was measured on happiness she could've conquered the moon. 

“So we’ll wait then,” she says, bottom lip wobbling tremendously. 

Newt nods repeatedly, his face like the sun. Glowing, euphoric and she’s unable to look away.

“Yes, I think that sounds good, yes,” he stutters, eyes slightly wet. 

He’s touching her now, almost obsessively. Hands running over her legs, stomach, neck, like he’s mapping her. Memorising her skin. Every now and again, his nails slip under her chemise, nicking her hips.

“Perhaps we should get out then,” Tina sighs, helplessly arching her back into him. 

“Yes,” Newt mumbles, lips catching her jaw, “absolutely,” 

“Mercy Lewis,” she gasps, and he leans in capturing the sound with his brilliant tongue. 

They dance a magnificent waltz. Tina rubs up against his chest like a cat, his scar scratching her stomach deliciously. Newt’s playing with the hem of her shirt, bunching it up, then sliding it down, clearly imagining it off her body. Tina can’t find it in herself to stop him; not while her blood is buzzing, not while their previous conversation is ringing in her ears. She always imagined she’d be a virgin if she got married, that doesn’t mean she thought she had to be. Tentatively, she raises her arms up over her head. 

“Newt? Tina?” Jacob’s voice rings out from above them. 

Their lips break apart with a soft pop. Tina’s panting hard and fast, arms still dangled above her. Newt’s hands are practically up her shirt, his fingertips stilling where they were previously playing piano on her ribs. 

“Shit,” Newt breaths, and Tina chokes on a slightly hysterical laugh. 

“Pal, this place is a maze,” Jacobs hasty footsteps clunk down the staircase directly above them.

Tina practically vaults out of the bath, and Newt trips out after her. 

“Where are you two?” the no-maj sings out, his tone suddenly switching from uptight to teasing, “everyone better be decent when I find you!”

Tina watches incredulously as Newt struggles to get his pants up and over his saturated legs. 

“Newt, you’re a wizard, you can spell yourself dry!” she hisses through her teeth, at his clear frustration. 

Bouncing nervously on her toes, Tina is caught between wanting to race down to rescue her clothes, and staying put, terrified that Jacob will catch her practically naked. A burst of hot air bellows up her spine, and she suddenly feels warm, instead of cold and dripping. 

She turns to find Newt belting up his trousers, wand stuck behind his ear. 

“You could’ve dried me yourself,” he mumbles bending down to grab his shirt.

“I can’t!” she cries, wringing her hands fretfully, “all my clothes and my wand are downstairs,” Newt’s eyes widen comically. 

Jacob’s feet appear down the steps of their platform. If Newt summoned her clothes and wand now, he’d either see them zoom up to meet her or Tina would only have one leg up her trousers when he turns the corner. The witch and wizard stare at each other, fearfully. All the muscles in Tina’s body are trembling with tension. Newt quickly sweeps down, picks up his shirt, and chucks it at her. She catches it clumsily. 

“Quickly!” he implores hastily, “put it on,” 

She does swiftly, trying not to notice how it only manages to end at the tops of her thighs, her underwear poking out underneath it. 

“Ah, found you guys…“ Jacobs red face, puffs round the corner, and stops in his tracks, eyebrows slowly raising knowingly. 

Half the bath water has splashed itself out an onto the floor, creating a large damp puddle that they both wavering awkwardly in. Newt’s dressed only in his pants and belt, his suspenders lying like a dead snake on the floor, hair a bird’s nest. Tina’s managed to button up his shirt’s buttons wrong, and their similar heights mean it’s less like a dress, and more like something she could actually wear. She attempts to casually tug it down, but it never manages to reach the bend of her knees. Jacob’s clever eyes linger on the scratch marks on Newt’s shoulders, and the purple bruises forming on Tina’s neck. 

The no-maj leans back on the staircase, surveying them in an almost fatherly manner. But not a father who'd scold them so loud, his booming voice would echo up the street, oh, no. Instead a father that would give Tina a crude wink, and Newt a high five before talking in a loud voice about giving them both some privacy. Newt reaches out to entwine their hands together. She squeezes him back, thankfully.

“Well, well, well,” he crosses his arms over his chest, smiling around at them cheekily, “what’s going on here?” 

Tina and Newt quickly rocket off, their rapid explanations crashing into one another at their haste to explain their situation. 

“A fire-“  
“Then the baby niffler-“  
“And she fell in-“  
“And he bit me-“  
“So I had to clean the wound-“  
“And I was falling asleep-“  
“So I suggested-“

“And then we…” Tina trails off awkwardly, swallowing tightly at the delighted look on Jacob’s face. 

“And then you what?” he teases, and she hides her face pathetically in Newt’s shoulder. She feels Newt’s lips press themselves on the top of her head. 

“Aww you two!” Tina looks up to see Jacobs practically jumping for joy, “I knew it! Just wait till I tell Queenie…” his grin falls off his face, and his jovial manner suddenly turning grim. 

“Jacob?” Tina asks him frowning, “where’s Queenie?” she twists in Newt’s arms, expecting a blonde bouncing down the stairs, itching to share in the teasing.

Jacob kicks the ground uneasily, and Tina untangles herself, placing her hands on her hips- modestly be damned- glaring at the no-maj imposingly. Jacobs takes a hasty step backwards, and Newt places a calming hand on her back, rubbing gently. 

“Where is she, Jacob,” Newt asks, just has firm but with less heat behind his words.

“She’s gone,” he blurts out, running a hand on his face musing his moustache

“Gone?” Tina cries, hanging on to Newt for dear life, “what do you mean gone?” 

“She said she wanted to go find people who understand her,” Jacob throws up his hands in defeat, flopping down on the steps, “I tried to find her, but she disapparated,”

“We understand her,” Tina says petulantly, Jacob shoots her a sad smile.

“I don’t think she thinks we do, Tina,” he says gloomily, his head sinking to his knees.

Tina thinks back to the wounded look her sister gave her before her face turned into an empty mask. Queenie’s angry silence in reply to her desperate letters. Her fingers twirling through her hair, as she cried into her lap after hearing the news about Newt’s apparent engagement. Tina trying to save up every coin she possibly could to buy Queenie that blue dress she’d been looking at for months in Macy’s window. Queenie slapping a seventh year so hard his head vibrated like a bell, after he called Tina ugly. Her baby sisters tiny hand clasped tightly in hers, tears falling down her fat pink cheeks and Tina hugging her tight promising to never, ever, let anything happen to her. 

“We have to find her,” she cries, looking desperately between the two men, tucking her memories close to her. 

“Yes,” Jacob says looking up, eyes rimmed red. 

“We will,” Newt promises her fervently, touching his forehead to hers. And despite his soft eyes, and good intentions, his love can’t still her beating heart. Tina doesn’t think anything could help the sinking feeling in the stomach, the niggle in the back of her mind that they have already lost her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, I've never really written anything like this before and I'm not really sure if it's good or not. I don't know if it deserves to be in the mature bracket, but I'm going to put it there just in case!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


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